Thursday, November 01, 2007

You really are the best Dad in the whole world. I know that I can talk to you anytime. Hope you have a wonderful birthday. Some of my favorite memories:

Halftime of the girl's basketball game - "Now, Reg, make sure you watch that girl on the outside, she's getting a step on you towards the basket. You need to back up a little and you will be ahead of her. Oh and that one girl is running really hot, so get yourself set up and take a charge. You might have to flop a little to make it stick." Yeah, my Dad told me all about how to take a charge and make it look worse than it actually was.

We could feel your excitement on vacation morning. You always tried so hard to make sure that we had tons of fun on vacation even though with our large family we didn't do tons of expensive things. We would pile into our van and pop in the Odyssey tapes and away we would go. Odyssey would keep us occupied for 100% of the trip if you would let us. We hadn't even turned off our road on our vacation journey and we already wanted to pop in the first "tape" (no CD's yet) and listen away. I can't believe you tortured us and made us wait until we got to the highway!

I love the fact that my friends say "Your Dad is so cooool!" I remember bringing home friends from school and we would do crazy things, like make movies and you were the producer or we would have "bb" gun shooting contests. Doesn't get much better than that!

This really isn't a fond memory, but a memory nonetheless. When certain bloggers (!) decided it would be fun to toilet paper our apple orchard, you woke us up at 7 A.M. to go out and clean it up so that if they (whoever they was) happened to drive by to see their handiwork, it would already be cleaned up. What a Dad!

This one came to me today so I added it. Those wonderful disciplinary times when we had to write the same sentence 500 times that went something like " I will not talk back to my Dad. He is the boss." Or something similar. (I only thought of this today because I saw a postcard from an inmate where he wrote the same line over and over to his loved one about he was sorry, and he still loved her blah blah like 50 times in small print)